


Signs of love

by britishbossy



Category: Victoria (2016), Victoria (Jenna Coleman), Victoria (itv)
Genre: F/M, Heartache, Lord Melbourne POV, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sad, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8185768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishbossy/pseuds/britishbossy
Summary: "You gave her the telescope as a gift for her birthday. So she could look at the stars more fondly. Just as you look at her, admiring her from a great distance, unable to cross. She is your star, shining for you in the most wonderful light, the most beautiful thing you ever laid eyes on. She is a star and you, well, you're just a man."- Lord M-centric





	1. The telescope

The telescope

 

 

 

Content. That's what you feel now that you're back at Buckingham House and close to her, yet admiring her from afar. After she fought for the remain of her ladies and yours as her prime minister so passionately you cannot help but wonder if you brought her to do this. If it is not all your fault that both of your hearts will suffer. It is evident. You know it. And you have seen it before.

 

“ _Do you really mean to forsake me?“_

 

Even though it was not your fault you felt so guilty in that moment. The way she looked at you back then was too much. As if you wanted to leave her. As if you were the one to hurt her feelings when in truth the exact opposite is your wish. You wish to serve her, guide her the best you can. You wish for her to be happy. If she only knew...

She seems delighted now in the company of her ladies, they chat, laugh and she glances at you now and then. And you find yourself unable not to return her looks. It's getting worse, you realise. Since the coronation ball she has been a constance on your mind and within the past weeks you forced yourself to stay away from her for you dreamt about kissing her that night more than once. You felt yourself losing focus and in the face off your close resign you thought it for the best to get away. To save her and yourself the pain. But it seemed that she had other plans. She had come to see you in the middle of day, finding you in a state of distress and looking barely presentable. And yet she had made you laugh at yourself and the situation you had been in. She was missing you and she was not hiding it, her eyes wide and almost pleading when she asked you to join her for dinner. It had been hard to refuse her, you reflect. Could she not see that it was for the best if you stayed away for some time?

 

“ _I think when you're not my prime minister, you're still my friend“._

 

“ _I think you must know why.“_

 

That day you realised it was useless to deny your feelings for her any longer. You had already fallen for her and why not tell her in the face of your soon to come farewell? You could not help but name it and you spoke of the devotion you feel for her, almost embarrassed by the way your voice shook back then, trying to make her see. Trying to make her understand that a parting of your ways was for the best.

By now, you would be completely incapable to do so again. Because it feels right to be here, to be near her at almost any time of the day, to be constantly around. She needs you and wants you in her presence. Who are you to refuse her?

Lord Portman is discussing the future now:

“But you do know that your days are numbered, don't you?“

You barely look at your old friend, your eyes still fixed on her as if she will stay safe only underneath your gaze. At least that's what it feels like to you.

“Of course, any prime minister knows that“, you answer absently as she gives you a smile once more and the corners of your mouth lift in response. There is no conscious decision on your part about it anymore. Everytime she smiles at you your heart warms and you would do anything to make her smile at you again. It makes her even more beautiful than she already is. Her blue eyes shine for you and no one else and melts away every piece of the armour you have put on yourself for the past years.

Lord Portman's voice reaches your ear once more:

“I mean, that the queen must marry, soon. And then...“.

The undeniable truth of his words make your chest tighten and your jaw clenches because you cannot imagine her with anyone else without feeling your heart sink. That someone else but you will be allowed to be close to her. That someone else is going to worship and cherish her. The mere thought of another man by her side is unbearable and you supress a deep sigh. But you're no fool, well, not completely. “Yes“, you say and the words fall from your lips heavily.

“Then she will look to her husband, not to me.“

From the beginning you knew this day would come. You knew that she was nothing but an 18-year-old girl, pushed onto the throne of an empire. But you could not know that you would fall for her so fast and deep. You cannot stop it now and if you were a braver man you would have resigned instead of giving in to her once more. From now on it can only lead to damnation for the both of you. Because when these feelings started inside your heart you convinced yourself that it could never be. She is your queen and your duty towards your country comes first. That was why you did not give in to her at the coronation ball, that and because she had been drunk. The young woman had had no idea what she was doing and would have felt ashamed afterwards. As her advisor and prime minister it is your duty to keep any harm from her. And you do. It's what you will always do.

 

“ _You must smile and wave and never let them know how hard it is to bear.“_

 

You will make sure to keep your distance. You will fight your own heart, ignore your deepest feelings, damage yourself as far as necessary. Because she will never be yours. She is the one woman you cannot have and you will accept your position and be the advisor and prime minister she needs.

That's why you gave her the telescope as a gift for her birthday. So she could look at the stars more fondly. Just as you look at her, admiring her from a great distance, unable to cross. She is your star, shining for you in the most wonderful light, the most beautiful thing you ever laid eyes on. She is a star and you, well, you're just a man.

“I know.“

 


	2. The rooks

The rooks

 

 

You have tried. You have tried to prepare yourself for this moment. And still it catches you off guard when she comes to Brocket Hall and tells you how she feels.

 

“At the beginning I thought that you were the father that I never had.“

 

It is what you intended to be. Her mentor and friend, her advisor. The one man she would listen to in critical situaions. But from the look in her eyes you know that she no longer feels that way about you. You have known since the dangerous little moment between the two of you at the coronation ball. Her feelings for you are of a romantic nature. Back then you thought that maybe it would pass, that it was just a whimsy encouraged by champagne. But again, she proves you wrong.

 

“But now I feel...I know...that you're the only companion I could ever desire.“

 

As her words reach your heart you cannot hide the small smile that graces your lips for a moment. To know that she thinks of you in that way. To know that your dreams are not hopeless. It fills you with a comfortable warmth and your heart does a little jump of joy before reality crushes down on you. It can never be. Whatever it is between the queen and you, it is impossible, forbidden. The sweetest feeling changes into a bitter one and you feel yourself slipping. You have to turn her away. You need to lie to her for both of your sakes even though it will break both of your hearts. You have to make her find someone else. Someone she will be able to marry, someone born out of royalty and way younger than you.

You reach for her hands, holding them gently, thinking about the right words. You will have to be careful because she has just spilled her heart out to you and she is more vulnerable than ever.

 

_Tread softly because you tread on my dreams._

 

It is the last thing you want to do. Hurt her. And yet you have to because it is your duty.

 

“Did you know that...that rooks mate for life?“

 

You have to swallow hard and force yourself to be strong for the both of you. She needs you as her prime minister and friend and you know that she could not bear it to lose you completely and neither can you. You have to push her away but not too forcefully.

When you tell her that she cannot give her heart to you, you hope like mad that she will understand. That she will see the sheer absurdity of her idea and find her senses again.

 

“I think you have it already.“

 

Your resolve weakens at her words for it is everything you have dreamt of and more. Never would you have imagined that she could love you back, you, an old, boring politician, already past his best years. And then there is her, young, soft, beautiful, stubborn and wild like a forest fire. She burns you everytime she gives you a compliment. Everytime she smiles at you it feels like you are burning up from the inside out. It is the most wonderful feeling and you know that she will be the last woman you will ever love.

But for her you are her first. The first man she thinks of in that way. And even though she might be as honest as she is, even though your rejection might break her heart for now, you know it will pass. She is so young, all of her life lying before her, just about to begin while your time is already running out. She is like dawn, her colours not yet fully explored but yours are fading. Her sun has not yet fully risen while yours is already setting for twilight. It is almost tragic. It reminds you of the opera you went to see with her only a week ago. You noticed the plot even though you were busy returning her fond glances all night. The pain, the suffering, it is all real between the two of you. You feel it stronger now than ever before and you know that she can feel it, too. There is an ocean between her and you, a whole lifetime. And yet you are both reaching towards each other, craving to intertwine, so desperately wishing for something that will never be.

 

“No, you must keep it intact for someone else.“

 

Your heart aches from your own words and form the way her blue eyes begin filling with tears. You give her an excuse of a smile, trying to cheer her up and save yourself from imagining her with someone else. You can see that she does not want to believe you. There is still hope in her eyes, staring up at you, silently begging you to return her affections and you would love nothing more than to do so. But you cannot. So, you let go of her hands, explaining that you are just the same as the rooks. A companion for life. You have to swallow once more while you are trying to believe that lie. Desperately you are trying to remember the lovely face of Caroline, trying to ground yourself. But with Victoria standing in front of you, you seem incabable to do so.

 

“I see“, she breathes, fighting back the tears and you hold your breath, stopping yourself from reaching out for her. You cannot bare the look in her eyes any longer.

“Then I'm sorry for having disturbed you, Lord M.“

 

When she has put several steps of distance between you and her, you finally manage to look up and watch her leave. But soon you find that it feels like too much again, and you turn your back at her. In your head you know that it is the right thing to do. You know that you can never be with her, no matter how much she or the both of you might wish to. For a second you are about to think that it is not fair...before you get the better of yourself and walk back to the house.

 

There is a reason you gave her the telescope, after all. And there is a reason why you brought up the rooks to tell her that you cannot accept her heart.

 

Because you are a rook. And she is your star, beautiful to admire but so far, far away and no matter how hard you try to fly higher you will never be able to reach her.

 

 


	3. The orchids

 

The orchids

 

You cannot remember how you got there. At the ball the queen is holding for her uncle Alfred, the king of Belgium, the man who wants her to marry his son, Albert. The man who knows about the inappropriate affections she is holding for you. You ignore him most of the time even though you can feel his gaze on you now and then. He is watching you, waiting for you to push her away and into the arms of her cousin.

 

“ _I have seen the way my niece looks at you.“_

 

You do not care that they notice. People were talking about your relationship with the queen right from the beginning. She has been warned about you before you had even met. Some might say that you are of an egoistic nature, greedy for power and maybe you were...but not anymore.

So, you could not care less about what the lords and ladies keep chatting about when she enters the ball room, dressed up as Elisabeth and some of them stare at you, finding you as a perfect copy of Lord Leicester. She looks even more beautiful than usual, with her hair falling down her shoulders. For a brief moment you imagine running your fingers through it to feel its silken texture but you remember who you are almost instantly and you look away. The king of Belgium gives you a knowing glance and you choose to ignore it.

 

You spent the following hours standing in a corner, near a bouquet of flowers, their smell cruelly remembering you of your greenhouses where you grow the orchids for her. Those beautiful, delicate flowers, a symbol for love and desire, constantly in need of sunlight, never too much water, the petals so soft and breakable. Could it be more obvious? You did not intend to grow them, you did not intend to open your greenhouses ever again in the first place but then Victoria had come along and everything had changed. Perhaps it was a subconscious decision on your part to associate her with orchids. You keep giving them to her because you need to let her know. You can never tell her how you feel, so you let the flowers speak for you because if you did not express your affections somehow you feel that you shall go insane. It can never be and you rejected her already but your heart is still hers and it will be until your last day. You are her first love and she will be your last.

 

Later that evening when you cannot stand to watch her dance with young men, one more hardly a considerable candidat for a marriage than the other any longer, you step towards her in the middle of the dance floor and ask for a dance. She is still hurt. She made that fact quite clear by ignoring you most of the time. She lets you know by the slightly arrogant raise of her eyebrows and her carefully chosen words: “I think this one is free“.

You cannot bring yourself to say anything as you take her into your arms, her hand resting in your palm, seperated through the fabric of both of your gloves. You wish they were not there, you wish to touch your skin to hers, to feel her warmth and softness and it makes your grip tighten around her the slightest bit. You begin to move and it feels as easy as ever. You are guiding her and she lets you, trusting you wholeheartedly, her body smooth and her muscles relaxed.

“I was not sure if I would dance with you tonight“, she breaks the silence and you know it is what you deserve.

“It would be unkind for Elisabeth to refuse her Leicester“, you answer, every word a cryptic expression of your feelings.

She looks up at you with wonder in her eyes and you find yourself drowning in her. As if she was an ocean and you were just a stone. She keeps pulling you down and you are helpless to do a thing about it.

“Leicester was her companion?“

 

“ _Not all queens marry, ma'am.“_

“ _Do you think she was lonely?“_

“ _I believe she found...companions.“_

 

The very word makes your heart stutter and you have to swallow back your heart before it spills into your mouth. Dancing with her feels like an opiate to you. You are beginning to turn lightheaded, your own body feels too light, as if she could throw you across the room with only one shove against your chest.

“He was“, you answer but there is something else you feel you should say:

“He did have a wife but then she died.“

You really have no idea what possesses you in that moment. All you see is her.

“And even though he was free, they never married?“

The weight of the thought alone, that she is not talking about Elisabeth and Leicester, that you both are not talking about the pair of them makes you hold your breath. She is still waiting for you.

And even though you would like nothing more than to accept her, to damn your duty to your country you must be reasonable.

“I think both he and the queen understood that they were not in the position to marry.“, you say, trying to make her see sense in all this. You come to a halt but you are still holding her, trying to hold up the imagination a little longer.

“Whatever their inclination.“

Her face is taking over by understandment. Your heart sinks. You cannot bear this closeness any longer. So, you let go of her gently and step back, your eyes still fixed on hers. She is looking rather overwhelmed by the loss of your contact. As if you had just pushed her into the pouring rain of a cold November afternoon. Her eyes are wide, silently begging you to stay with her and with each step away your heart breaks a little more.

 

You find yourself in the corridor a few minutes later, ready to leave. Better break it off now and save what is left of you. The king of Belgium has sent for the princes. And now it is on you step back finally and let her find a husband.

 

Several days later when the princes arrive and Albert stands next to her at the piano, you know that it is over. You see it in the way she swallows hard before she says his name. You see it in the way she looks at him, completely taken aback by his handsome features. Resignated you let your eyes fall to the ground and try to smile. You should be happy for her because you know that this is the only way. The way it is supposed to be.

 

The end

 

 


End file.
